Plutarch: Lives of the noble Grecians and Romans
sent back, who, though not of military age, were by necessity forced
to take arms, while the rest prepared to fight Pyrrhus.
He, upon the coming of these additional forces, was indeed possessed
with a more eager desire and ambition than before, to make himself
master of the town; but his designs not succeeding, and receiving
fresh losses every day, he gave over the siege, and fell to
plundering the country, determining to winter thereabout. But fate
is unavoidable, and a great feud happening at Argos between Aristeas
and Aristippus, two principal citizens, after Aristippus had resolved
to make use of the friendship of Antigonus, Aristeas, to anticipate
him, invited Pyrrhus thither. And he always revolving hopes upon
hopes, and treating all his successes as occasions of more, and his
reverses as defects to be amended by new enterprises, allowed neither
losses nor victories to limit him in his receiving or giving trouble,
and so presently went for Argos. Areus, by frequent ambushes, and
seizing positions where the ways were most unpracticable, harassed
the Gauls and Molossians that brought up the rear. It had been told
Pyrrhus by one of the priests that found the liver of the sacrificed
beast imperfect, that some of his near relations would be lost; in
this tumult and disorder of his rear, forgetting the prediction, he
commanded out his son Ptolemy with some of his guards to their
assistance, while he himself led on the main body rapidly out of the
pass. And the fight being very warm where Ptolemy was, (for the most
select men of the Lacedaemonians, commanded by Evalcus, were there
engaged,) one Oryssus of Aptera in Crete, a stout man and swift of
foot, running on one side of the young prince, as he was fighting
bravely, gave him a mortal wound and slew him. On his fall those
about him turned their backs, and the Lacedaemonian horse, pursuing
and cutting off many, got into the open plain, and found themselves
engaged with the enemy before they were aware, without their
infantry; Pyrrhus, who had received the ill news of his son, and was
in great affliction, drew out his Molossian horse against them, and
charging at the head of his men, satiated himself with the blood and
slaughter of the Lacedaemonians, as indeed he always showed himself a
terrible and invincible hero in actual fight, but now he exceeded all
he had ever done before in courage and force. On his riding his
horse up to Evalcus, he, by declining a little to one side, had
almost cut off Pyrrhus's hand in which he held the reins, but
lighting on the reins, only cut them; at the same instant Pyrrhus,
running him through with his spear, fell from his horse, and there on
foot as he was, proceeded to slaughter all those choice men that
fought about the body of Evalcus; a severe additional loss to Sparta,
incurred after the war itself was now at an end, by the mere
animosity of the commanders. Pyrrhus having thus offered, as it
were, a sacrifice to the ghost of his son, and fought a glorious
battle in honor of his obsequies, and having vented much of his pain
in action against the enemy, marched away to Argos. And having
intelligence that Antigonus was already in possession of the high
grounds, he encamped about Nauplia, and the next day dispatched a
herald to Antigonus, calling him a villain, and challenging him to
descend into the plain field and fight with him for the kingdom. He
answered, that his conduct should be measured by times as well as by
arms, and that if Pyrrhus had no leisure to live, there were ways
enough open to death. To both the kings, also, came ambassadors from
Argos, desiring each party to retreat, and to allow the city to
remain in friendship with both, without falling into the hands of
either. Antigonus was persuaded, and sent his son as a hostage to
the Argives; but, Pyrrhus, although he consented to retire, yet, as
he sent no hostage, was suspected. A remarkable portent happened at
this time to Pyrrhus; the heads of the sacrificed oxen, lying apart
from the bodies, were seen to thrust out their tongues and lick up
their own gore. And in the city of Argos, the priestess of Apollo
Lycius rushed out of the temple, crying she saw the city full of
carcasses and slaughter, and an eagle coming out to fight, and
presently vanishing again.
In the dead of the night, Pyrrhus, approaching the walls, and finding
the gate called Diamperes set open for them by Aristeas, was
undiscovered long enough to allow all his Gauls to enter and take
possession of the marketplace. But the gate being too low to let in
the elephants, they were obliged to take down the towers which they
carried on their backs, and put them on again in the dark and in
disorder, so that time being lost, the city took the alarm, and the
people ran, some to Aspis the chief citadel, and others to other
places of defense, and sent away to Antigonus to assist them. He,
advancing within a short distance, made an halt, but sent in some of
his principal commanders, and his son with a considerable force.
Areus came thither, too, with one thousand Cretans, and some of the
most active men among the Spartans, and all falling on at once upon
the Gauls, put them in great disorder. Pyrrhus, entering in with
noise and shouting near the Cylarabis, when the Gauls returned the
cry, noticed that it did not express courage and assurance, but was
the voice of men distressed, and that had their hands full. He,
therefore, pushed forward in haste the van of his horse that marched
but slowly and dangerously, by reason of the drains and sinks of
which the city is full. In this night engagement, there was infinite
uncertainty as to what was being done, or what orders were given;
there was much mistaking and straggling in the narrow streets; all
generalship was useless in that darkness and noise and pressure; so
both sides continued without doing anything, expecting daylight. At
the first dawn, Pyrrhus, seeing the great citadel Aspis full of
enemies, was disturbed, and remarking, among a variety of figures
dedicated in the market-place, a wolf and bull of brass, as it were
ready to attack one another, he was struck with alarm, recollecting
an oracle that formerly predicted fate had determined his death when
he should see a wolf fighting with a bull. The Argives say, these
figures were set up in record of a thing that long ago had happened
there. For Danaus, at his first landing in the country, near the
Pyramia in Thyreatis, as he was on his way towards Argos, espied a
wolf fighting with a bull, and conceiving the wolf to represent him,
(for this stranger fell upon a native, as he designed to do,) stayed
to see the issue of the fight, and the wolf prevailing, he offered
vows to Apollo Lycius, and thus made his attempt upon the town, and
succeeded; Gelanor, who was then king, being displaced by a faction.
And this was the cause of dedicating those figures.
Pyrrhus, quite out of heart at this sight, and seeing none of his
designs succeed, thought best to retreat, but fearing the narrow
passage at the gate, sent to his son Helenus, who was left without
the town with a great part of his forces, commanding him to break
down part of the wall, and assist the retreat if the enemy pressed
hard upon them. But what with haste and confusion, the person that
was sent delivered nothing clearly; so that quite mistaking, the
young prince with the best of his men and the remaining elephants
marched straight through the gates into the town to assist his
father. Pyrrhus was now making good his retreat, and while the
marketplace afforded them ground enough both to retreat and fight,
frequently repulsed the enemy that bore upon him. But when he was
forced out of that broad place into the narrow street leading to the
gate, and fell in with those who came the other way to his assistance
some did not hear him call out to them to give back, and those who
did, however eager to obey him, were pushed forward by others behind,
who poured in at the gate. Besides, the largest of his elephants
falling down on his side in the very gate, and lying roaring on the
ground, was in the way of those that would have got out. Another of
the elephants already in the town, called Nicon, striving to take up
his rider, who, after many wounds received, was fallen off his back,
bore forward upon those that were retreating, and, thrusting upon
friends as well as enemies, tumbled them all confusedly upon one
another, till having found the body, and taken it up with his trunk,
he carried it on his tusks, and, returning in a fury, trod down all
before him. Being thus pressed and crowded together, not a man could
do anything for himself, but being wedged, as it were, together into
one mass, the whole multitude rolled and swayed this way and that all
together, and did very little execution either upon the enemy in
their rear, or on any of them who were intercepted in the mass, but
very much harm to one another. For he who had either drawn his sword
or directed his lance, could neither restore it again, nor put his
sword up; with these weapons they wounded their own men, as they
happened to come in the way, and they were dying by mere contact with
each other.
Pyrrhus, seeing this storm and confusion of things, took off the
crown he wore upon his helmet, by which he was distinguished, and
gave it to one nearest his person, and trusting to the goodness of
his horse, rode in among the thickest of the enemy, and being wounded
with a lance through his breastplate, but not dangerously, nor indeed
very much, he turned about upon the man who struck him, who was an
Argive, not of any illustrious birth, but the son of a poor old
woman; she was looking upon the fight among other women from the top
of a house, and perceiving her son engaged with Pyrrhus, and
affrighted at the danger he was in, took up a tile with both hands,
and threw it at Pyrrhus. This falling on his head below the helmet,
and bruising the vertebrae of the lower part of the neck, stunned and
blinded him; his hands let go the reins, and sinking down from his
horse, he fell just by the tomb of Licymnius. The common soldiers
knew not who it was; but one Zopyrus, who served under Antigonus, and
two or three others running thither, and knowing it was Pyrrhus,
dragged him to a door way hard by, just as he was recovering a little
from the blow. But when Zopyrus drew out an Illyrian sword, ready to
cut off his head, Pyrrhus gave him so fierce a look, that confounded
with terror, and sometimes his hands trembling, and then again
endeavoring to do it, full of fear and confusion, he could not strike
him right, but cutting over his mouth and chin, it was a long time
before he got off the head. By this time what had happened was known
to a great many, and Alcyoneus hastening to the place, desired to
look upon the head, and see whether he knew it, and taking it in his
hand rode away to his father, and threw it at his feet, while he was
sitting with some of his particular favorites. Antigonus, looking
upon it, and knowing it, thrust his son from him, and struck him with
his staff, calling him wicked and barbarous, and covering his eyes
with his robe, shed tears, thinking of his own father and
grandfather, instances in his own family of the changefulness of
fortune, and caused the head and body of Pyrrhus to be burned with
all due solemnity. After this, Alcyoneus, discovering Helenus under
a mean disguise in a threadbare coat, used him very respectfully, and
brought him to his father. When Antigonus saw him, "This, my son,"
said he, "is better; and yet even now you have not done wholly well
in allowing these clothes to remain, to the disgrace of those who it
seems now are the victors." And treating Helenus with great